


Stuffing Day

by Blackbird Song (Blackbird_Song)



Category: Alien Nation
Genre: Adaptation, Gen, Holidays, new traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-15
Updated: 2008-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1642133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_Song/pseuds/Blackbird%20Song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt's suggestion helped the Franciscos to make their traditional celebration work on Earth a few years back, but he never figured it would catch on quite the way it has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuffing Day

**Author's Note:**

> Set perhaps three years after the end of the series (including the TV movies). The Tenctonese Holiday adapted in this story was mentioned in passing in the fourth movie, The Enemy Within. I could not find any further info on it, so I've made everything up here. My apologies if I've done something wrong with the canon.  
> Many thanks to my husband for the beta.
> 
> Written for Ozsaur

 

 

The first Christmas Eve Matt had spent with his Newcomer partner had been both awkward and unsettling, with a side of difficult thrown in for good measure. The colors were bright and jarring--oranges, pinks, blues--even the wrong green for the time of year. And then there were the patterns that more closely resembled Cinco de Mayo than Christmas, even though they really didn't look like anything he'd ever seen then, either. 

Plus, there was the Christmas tree thing. Okay, he'd known lots of people who used potted evergreens that they planted outside after, or Norfolk Island pines, or fake trees, or no trees at all, but what he wanted--needed--to make it Christmas was a good, old-fashioned dead tree. He'd resisted the idea of putting it in one of those stand things that was impossible to pound onto the trunk and tipped over if you looked at the tree for too long, but he did concede that a watered tree was less of a fire hazard, and the landlord did have a right to insist on it. He still missed the simplicity of two planks nailed to the bottom of the tree, though. Charlie Brown definitely had it right!

And then, of course, there was the food. It was bad enough getting used to the idea of George and Susan drinking sour milk--watching the stuff going past their lips was enough to make him gag--but the fact that their Christmas meal consisted of raw fisher cat lightly rubbed with ginger and ground batwing and stuffed into a watermelon made it all both surreal and sick-making. Now that he was married to Cathy, of course, that seemed mild, and he recognized it as the gourmet treat that it actually was. As long as he didn't have to eat it. 

In deference to his hosts, he'd accepted their offering of sashimi (very nicely prepared, he'd had to admit) and guacamole (really, really strange with the sashimi, especially when made with that little bit of mustard) so as not to subject them to the smell of charred animal flesh. He'd thoroughly relished the turkey he'd made for himself the next day. Susan, in turn, had graciously accepted the organically grown poinsettia he'd taken pains to get for them, even as Buck had glared at him in mortal offense for bringing red into the house. He'd found out later that Buck's mood had nothing to do with the color of the plant and everything to do with being a teenager.

The stuffing was kind of cool, he'd had to admit. Not the stuffing for the fisher cat--that had been a vile mix of marinated raw skunk strips and aged oysters that made a living skunk smell sweet. The stuffing of Andarko's Shoe had fascinated him. That first time, it had been inadvertent. The Tenctonese holiday had been put on hold for the Francisco family first by a series of incidents affecting Buck and Emily in school (leading to such strife within the family that Susan had forgotten to initiate the ritual preparations), and then by a spate of violent crime in both human and Newcomer communities that had left Matt and George by turns exhausted, sick and injured. With the end of the year looming, Emily had suggested that they give Christmas Eve some meaning and stuff the Shoe, so that their _serdsos_ might shine the brighter in the coming year.

The Shoe was cardboard, shaped like a pointy-toed clog, about three feet long, a foot or so high and two wide, and brightly painted in the colors of Tencton. It had been placed in the middle of the living room, its point facing Tencton. As they'd made their way to the Shoe (Emily, Buck, George and Susan, in order), each praying quietly in Tenctonese over their Gifts of Shelter, Clothing, Nourishment and Wellbeing before stuffing each item into it, Matt's heart had warmed and ached a bit. That is, until they'd taken the stuffed Shoe outside and started digging a hole.

>   
> _"What are you doing?" asked Matt._
> 
> _"We are burying the Shoe," said George, as though it should be perfectly obvious._
> 
> _"What good's it going to do in the ground?"_
> 
> _George shrugged. "It will feed the garden, I suppose."_
> 
> _Matt gaped. "You mean this isn't part of the regular ceremony?"_
> 
> _"On Tencton, we would leave it outside the_ chooklak _for those who needed the gifts, but if we do that here, we are arrested for lettering."_
> 
> _"Littering. What about taking it to a shelter, or something?"_
> 
> _"Of course, Matthew!" George beamed at him. "We will take it to the animal shelter at once!"_
> 
> _"Whoa, whoa, wait! Animal shelter? What about the Newcomers?"_
> 
> _"It is humiliating to be seen taking the Gifts from the Shoe of Andarko," said Buck, bitterly._
> 
> _"That is why we stay away from the back of the_ chooklak _for nine days after the stuffing," said Susan._
> 
> _"Well, then, you could take it to the back of the shelter and drop it off, right? Sometime when nobody's around to see."_
> 
> _"That's a great idea!" said Emily, her smile melting Matt's heart as it always did._
> 
> _"It could work," allowed Susan._
> 
> _"As long as none of us was seen," said George._
> 
> _"How about if I take it?" said Matt._
> 
> _"Oh, yes! Please, Dad, that would be so perfect!"_
> 
> _"Yes, Emily, it would." George touched her temple, tenderly, then turned to Matt. "Matthew, are you sure it would be no trouble?"_
> 
> _"Oh, sure. No problem. Sneak into the shelter at-what time would nobody be around, exactly?"_
> 
> _"Oh. I would think, maybe...." George trailed off._
> 
> _"Your best chance is at midnight," said Susan, promptly._
> 
> _"Why midnight?"_
> 
> _"Because everyone's going to be looking up at the sky to see Santa Claus and his rain gear flying over," said George._
> 
> _"Reindeer."_

Matt smiled. Every year since then, the Franciscos had stuffed Andarko's Shoe a second time on Christmas Eve and he had spirited the thing to an appropriate shelter by himself and deposited it in an out-of-the-way spot while nobody was looking. The third year, he'd been surprised to find another Shoe right where he'd been about to place his, so he'd found another shelter. Each year, more Shoes appeared until he couldn't find a Shoeless shelter. Never yet had he caught another Shoe owner (or proxy) in the act. 

He smiled from behind the fence, gazing at the Francisco's Shoe-now bigger by an additional foot in each direction-when he felt a presence behind him.

"Excellent idea, Matthew," said George.

Matt smiled. "Yeah, well, I try."

"You not only gave meaning to Christmas, you made the stuffing of the Shoe of Andarko an even better Holiday."

"Yeah, well, I don't know that the sanitation guys agree."

"Nonsense! All of the Gifts are gone by mid-morning on Christmas Day, and you know it!" George draped an arm about Matt's shoulders. "Now, what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting for a friend."

"Have you not found one?" George turned him, a little.

"Getting mushy on me, George?" 

But then there was a rustle and a _Thump!_ and a slim Newcomer with the most gorgeous set of spots was struggling through the gate under a moderately sized, fully-stuffed Shoe.

"Thar she blows," whispered Matt.

And just then, Cathy turned her head and groaned. "How did you know?" She set her Shoe down with an ungainly heave.

"Shh! You'll get caught," said Matt in a stage whisper. "Come over here!"

George smirked. "I caught Albert last year," he murmured. "He made me promise never to follow him again, or he wouldn't catalyze our next child."

"And if you follow me again," said Cathy to Matt, "it won't even be possible for you to have children!"

"Hey! You're joking right? Right?"

Cathy kissed him. "So, George, is Emily joining us for the tree planting tomorrow?"

"Wait...you're not going to leave me hanging like that, are you?"

"She'll be there. And so will Matt. Won't you, Matthew?"

"Well, I--"

George raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you have a dead tree in your apartment?"

Matt looked at Cathy, who gave him a stern glare. "Yes," he sighed. "I'll be there."

"Guys! Duck!" whispered Cathy, fiercely.

A Newcomer in filthy, tattered clothing limped up to the Francisco's Shoe and started to pore through its contents, peeling the layers reverently.

George and Cathy averted their eyes, but Matt looked on, entranced.

The emaciated Newcomer looked between the melon in one hand and the jacket in the other, and set down the melon. He put on the jacket, looked up at the sky, and chanted. And then, he was gone.

"Why didn't he take the food, as well?" asked Matt.

"Because it is a taboo to take more than one item before everybody else has had a chance," said Cathy. "Besides, he can always hunt down a rat or two, if he has to. The jacket's much more permanent."

"What was he chanting?"

"It was a prayer of thanks to Celine and Andarko," said George. There was a catch in his voice.

"George?"

George touched Matt's temple. "He was thanking them for sending their emissary to do their work here."

Matt felt himself flush at George's words and touch. He reached back to return the caress. "Definitely mushy." 

And then they were embracing, and pulling Cathy in with them. "Happy Stuffing Day," said Matt, thickly.

"Merry Christmas, Neemu," said Cathy.

"Merry Christmas, my friend," said George.

"Let's get out of here before we get caught," said Matt, swiping at his eyes. 

 


End file.
